By ninth grade, the bullying escalated to a horrifying level of sexual assault. One day, Arvey came home in a panic, gasping for air. He revealed that his classmates blindfolded him and forced him to undress in a bathroom.
FARIDABAD, India — When my son Arvey reached sixth grade, his peers began bullying him. They insulted Arvey with names like chhakka (third gender), hijra (transgender), and ladkiyon jaisa (meaning effeminate) due to his sexuality. As a result, Arvey became isolated. No one sat with him on the same bench at school, played with him, or shared lunch together. Arvey felt incredibly alone.
The emotional toll on my son became immense and he felt tormented. By ninth grade, the bullying escalated to a horrifying level of sexual assault. One day, Arvey came home in a panic, gasping for air. He revealed that his classmates blindfolded him and forced him to undress in a bathroom. Shocked, I immediately sought professional help for my son. Although initial therapy failed to yield significant results, we eventually found a therapist who helped him heal.
After the winter break, Arvey’s emotional trauma resurfaced when school resumed. One day, he refused to take his exams and did not respond when I sent him reassuring messages. Tragically, an hour later, a call came in from our residential complex. Arvey jumped from the fifteenth floor of our building. Later, his suicide note revealed that bullying and sexual assault at school drove him to take his own life.
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My son Arvey was a wonderful son and talented artist. He loved singing and enrolled in music class. Understanding my struggles as a single mother, he showed great care and sensibility. I separated from my husband to escape a toxic marriage when Arvey was just four years old. Hoping to give him a healthy life, we created our own little world.
As a little boy, he would place his hand on my shoulder and say, “Mama, I am here for you.” Arvey shared everything with me and we formed a bond as best friends, more than mother and son. Everyone loved him and befriended him. Arvey studied at Delhi Public School in Greater Faridabad, India, which ranks among the best schools in the country with many branches nationwide.
When he reached sixth grade, other kids at school started humiliating him with derogatory names and called him gay. His excellence in studies and activities likely fueled the bullies’ animosity. They systematically broke down his morale. Despite working as a teacher at the same school and bringing this to the authorities’ attention, they brushed aside my concerns.
Consequently, my son also began discovering his sexuality. He bravely expressed himself by wearing a headband and earrings, but the people around him rejected this. It is disheartening that society often treats boys who embrace anything considered feminine with cruelty, while girls wearing pants and shirts face no such judgment.
Arvey attempted to conform to traditional notions of masculinity by taking up volleyball, but his lack of skill subjected him to further mockery. The childhood trauma he endured continued to haunt him. He sought help from teachers and peers at school but did not initially confide in me. Instead, they labeled him a “problem child” and pushed him away.
Sadly, on February 24, 2022, someone called me from my resedential complex to inform me that Arvey jumped from the fifteenth floor. The shock overwhelmed me. For a few minutes, everything went black. The neighbor kept talking on the phone, but I lost my ability to hear. I rushed home and found a few men lifting my son’s lifeless body into an ambulance. He died on the spot. There seemed no point to taking him to the hospital, but being a suicide, then needed to follow procedure.
I spent the entire night at the hospital, waiting to retrieve my son’s remains. I maintained composure during the funeral rituals, even as sympathetic eyes observed me. The weight of being a grieving mother felt like a heavy burden—one that no one should ever have to bear. I wish no mother to experience the pain of arranging her own child’s funeral.
I soon realized Arvey omitted certain details about the events following the bathroom incident, thinking they would hurt me. However, in his suicide note, Arvey boldly exposed all the boys and teachers who harassed him at school. The boys menacingly threatened him with rape, targeting not only him but also extending their threats to me. Despite receiving intimidating phone calls, I stood resolute.
After a month of persistent efforts, I convinced the police to register a case against the school and the boys. Despite clear evidence provided by the suicide note, the police hesitated to take action. Arvey’s assessment proved accurate—the boys who hurt him possessed significant influence. The school cunningly removed the boys who molested my son and placed the teacher, whose name Arvey mentioned, on leave.
Despite others warning me that registering complaints would be futile, I moved forward. My unwavering commitment to justice fueled my fight. The boys, along with the principal and the teacher, now face a trial. The authorities jailed some, but they have since been released on bail. The case remains ongoing.
This society silenced a great artist. They mentally and emotionally tormented my son every day until he committed suicide. Losing a child is the most painful and traumatic experience in this world. A mother who loses her child due to someone else’s mistake becomes the most vulnerable person. My son died, and I almost died too, especially with the kind of trolling I received afterwards.
In the aftermath of my son’s death, people accused me of seeking fame. They called me a bad wife and mother who could not care for my family or my child. They said my son’s upbringing by a single mother without any male presence caused him to be gay. Can this truly make someone gay? Can’t we understand simple scientific logic? I paid a huge price for being a single mother. I lost my son, and people still think I failed as a mother. I ask them, what mother would not try her best to raise a perfect child?
People neglect any child who demands their rights like Arvey. They treat parents, especially single mothers, the same way. Single moms in India face a tough world where no one respects them. Previously, schools refused to admit a child without the father’s name. Society leaves no place for single mothers and their children. People call any sensible or emotional child gay because they believe men don’t cry and must be strong. But, my son differed from others. He stayed strong and handled everything alone until he couldn’t.
Arvey lit up my life like a rainbow, and now my whole world is grey. Since I lost my son, I am living a nightmare. Every parent needs to hear my story. Perhaps my words and advice can help parents save their children. I wish no mother in the world to have a story like mine. No parent should ever endure the pain of losing a young child to suicide.
Through social media, many children reach out to boost my morale. Nevertheless, many silently battle situations like Arvey’s, unable to confide in their mothers due to fear. They also share their stories, revealing that their parents feel ashamed of their LGBTQ+ identity. These parents remain silent, failing to advocate for their children’s rights. In contrast, these brave kids express pride in my efforts, and I commit to ensuring they can lead healthy lives.
Now, I am dedicated to fighting for justice, not only for Arvey but for all those who have suffered at the hands of bullies. Arvey left me with a profound responsibility—to fight for LGBTQ+ rights and stand against bullying. His simple desire for love and acceptance went unfulfilled, but I will continue to fight so that others may find the acceptance they deserve.